258: Chapter 259 The Steel Torrent Rolls Across the Border

Five kilometers north of the border, at the assembly point for the Squid Nation's 7th Armored Brigade, over a hundred merkava Mk4 main battle tanks and "Namer" heavy armored personnel carriers were lined up in neat rows. Their engines rumbled low, and their exhaust condensed into white mist in the cold night sky.

Brigade Commander Colonel Amir Levin stood atop his command tank, observing that dark and silent land to the south through night-vision binoculars. Gaza—this narrow strip of land had swallowed too many of his colleagues over the past few months.

"Sir, all units are ready. Ten minutes until the attack begins," the communications officer reported.

Levin nodded. He was a young hawk among the Squid Nation's armored corps, known for his bravery and tactical innovation. He felt both excitement and a faint, imperceptible unease regarding this "final offensive." Intelligence indicated that the enemy had obtained many new weapons and their tactics were becoming increasingly cunning. But as a soldier, he chose to believe in his own strength.

"Notify all battalions," Levin ordered over the radio. "As planned, cross the line at exactly four o'clock. Remember, maintain formation and advance with reconnaissance by fire. If you encounter any resistance, call for artillery and air support immediately. Our mission isn't to get bogged down in a fight; it's to break through quickly and occupy key nodes."

"May God be with us."

"Armor, advance!"

At exactly four in the morning, hundreds of artillery pieces and rocket launchers roared simultaneously, pouring shells and rockets onto the northern border defense line of Gaza like a rainstorm. The flames turned half the sky red, the sound of explosions was continuous, and the earth trembled.

Five minutes later, the artillery fire began to shift deeper.

The steel torrent had begun.

The tanks and armored vehicles of the 7th Armored Brigade crushed the ruins of the border outposts, their tracks kicking up clouds of dust. Their headlights pierced through the smoke as they rumbled deep into Gaza.

Sinwar was resting with his eyes closed when the roar of the shelling reached the underground command post.

The vibrations traveled through the rock layers and rebar; the LED lights overhead swayed slightly, and dust trickled down. The sensor readings on the screen jumped wildly: a vibration intensity of magnitude 6.7 (equivalent to a medium earthquake), with a dense frequency and a coverage area extending three kilometers inland from the border.

"It has begun." Sinwar opened his eyes, which held no fear, only a cold clarity.

On the main screen, the red arrows representing the Squid Nation's military began to move. The northern route's arrow was the strongest, splitting into two secondary spearheads like the two giant pincers of a steel crab—one moving south along the coastal road, and the other veering inland, heading straight for the outskirts of the Old City.

"Report!" The voice of a communications Death Soldier rang out. "Observation points on the northern line confirm that at least one enemy armored battalion (about thirty tanks) and two mechanized infantry companies (about twenty armored vehicles) have crossed the border and are advancing toward the 'Oasis' orchard area. Their speed is about ten kilometers per hour, they are in a loose formation, and they are conducting reconnaissance by fire."

The "Oasis" orchard was the largest open area in northern Gaza; it once grew citrus, but now only charred stumps and craters remained. According to the plan, only a few snipers and remote-controlled mines were deployed here. Their mission was not to block the enemy, but to "show weakness."

"Order all units in 'Oasis' to retreat after symbolic resistance as planned. Detonate the pre-set remote-controlled mines to create chaos, then withdraw into the tunnels. Remember, make them think we were overwhelmed by firepower, not that we are retreating voluntarily," Sinwar ordered.

"Yes, sir!"

On the screen, the blue dots representing the "Oasis" defenders began to move back. Simultaneously, several red dots suddenly winked out—remote-controlled mines had successfully destroyed a few armored vehicles. However, more red dots only paused briefly before continuing to surge forward.

"Enemy reaction?" Sinwar asked.

"They stopped for about fifteen minutes. Engineers came forward to clear mines, and the tanks and infantry established a circular defense. Then... they called in artillery cover, conducting ten minutes of intensive shelling on the 'Oasis' area. Now, the vanguard continues to advance, and the main force seems to be establishing a temporary supply point in 'Oasis'."

A cold sneer curled the corner of Sinwar's mouth. "They've taken the bait. Notify Viper Teams One and Two to prepare to infiltrate the 'Oasis' area from Tunnel Entrances No. 3 and No. 7. Wait until dark."

On the front line, at the northern edge of the Old City, in the "Three-Way Junction" area.

This was one of the "Death Triangle Zones" Sinwar had pre-set. Three main streets converged here, surrounded by the ruins of six buildings eight to twelve stories high. After multiple bombings, only their reinforced concrete skeletons remained, towering in the smoke like the bones of giant beasts. Underground was one of Gaza's most complex and sturdy tunnel network hubs, code-named "Labyrinth."

Khalid Husseini, a local leader of the Resistance Organization nicknamed "Lynx," was setting up positions on the sixth floor of a nine-story ruin in the northeast corner with twelve men. They carried two Kornet anti-tank missile launchers, four RPG-7s, a large amount of rockets and small arms ammunition, as well as enough water and compressed dry rations for three days.

"Lynx" was in his thirties, with a hideous shrapnel scar on his cheek left by a previous Squid Nation airstrike. He had originally been an elementary school PE teacher, but after the war broke out, his wife and two children were killed in the bombings. Since then, his only reason for living was revenge.

"Set up the missiles here, aim for the center of the intersection," Khalid directed two young men. "Remember, hit the side of the tanks, preferably at the seam between the turret and the hull. Wait for my command before firing. The first wave must take out the lead and rear vehicles to trap them in the intersection."

"RPG teams, scatter to the fourth and seventh floors of the building opposite. Your mission is to hit the armored vehicles and infantry. Wait until the tanks are dazed by the missiles before you open fire."

"Sniper, Abbas," Khalid looked at a silent middle-aged man. "You take two people to the roof of the building in the southwest corner. Use that newly issued sniper rifle to hit the tanks' commander's sights, antennas, and any commanders who pop their heads out. Don't spare the bullets."

Abbas had once been a taxi driver and possessed eyes as sharp as an eagle's. He nodded, slung the .50 caliber sniper rifle equipped with a thermal imaging scope over his back, and left silently with his two assistants.

"Everyone else, check the explosives." Khalid walked to the center of the room. On the floor, a circle about two meters in diameter was drawn in chalk; below it was the entrance to a vertical shaft leading to the underground "Labyrinth." At the moment, the entrance was covered by a heavy reinforced concrete slab, with over a dozen thick cables connected to it, stretching to a detonator in the corner of the room.

Next to the detonator were twenty square objects wrapped in tarpaulin—each containing five kilograms of C4 plastic explosive, connected to blasting caps and wires.